The Blast that Counted
by Cybaster
Summary: Gundam X fanfic. In the epitome of the Seventh Space War, young Newtype Jamil Neate has to make a decision...and live with the consequences for the years to come. Kinda ancient...


Author's Note: Nobody seemed to have written a Gundam X fanfic --- or about any other Gundam series other than Gundam Wing --- so I thought I'd write a short one myself, for fun. Anyway, for those of you that don't know what Gundam X is about, there's a good synopsis of each and every Gundam X episode somewhere (I forgot where =| ) and while it's no Gundam Wing in terms of plotline, I think it's still pretty decent, although kinda slow. But that's just me. If you still want to know about Gundam X, reading this won't spoil anything; this takes place sometime around its prologue, in fact. Well, I better leave now, and let you read this…please give some feedback when you finish reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything here --- Gundam X belongs to Sunrise, Sotsu Agency and Asahi TV.

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# The Blast that Counted

***

_Well, this is it_, Jamil Neate thought to himself, panting with both excitement and nervousness inside his cockpit, faced with the critical mission he had before his eyes. Jamil was having his doubts, and he couldn't have picked a worse time to doubt his mission. _Time to start the battle, I guess_.

Before him in the darkness of space, loomed the massed Space Revolutionary Army force --- Mobile Suits and Space Cruisers, all, machine guns and beam cannons blazing in the black void towards him and his allies in a massive push towards their target. Even from so far away, Jamil could notice them clearly for all they were: he could barely see the glowing of their engines getting larger, en masse like a ghostly swarm of blue fireflies, and at the same time, he could sense their presences in a way no ordinary human in his position could ever hope to do, minds blazing with pride and anger. Beside him, his two co-pilots probably could sense their minds as well, Jamil knew, but not to Jamil's extent.

After all, Jamil was the more powerful Newtype, and in this battle the most powerful Newtype was the one with the biggest gun --- or so they would think. 'A new evolution of humanity', they called Jamil and the Newtype phenomenon. 'Capable of telepathic communication and psychic power, being able to see the future in his eyes', the media praised. Jamil knew better. He was a weapon, basically, a fifteen-year-old trump card in this battle. He was the last stand in a battle which would mean the deaths of billions if not more should he fail. And below him, where those who sent him held sway, was his homeland Earth --- the target of the advancing Space Revolutionary Army in the battle that would determine its fate.

And the Space Revolutionary Army wasn't even Jamil's worst problem. Behind the looming SRA fleet, slowly gliding towards the Earth, were dozens of twenty-mile long space colonies towering over everybody, the SRA's own trump card in a bid to force Earth to surrender. And if the Earth Federation beneath Jamil didn't, those same colonies would be dropped onto the Earth en-masse, destroying the Earth the SRA wanted to get and that the Earth Federation was determined to keep. That was why Jamil was deployed.

Of course, Jamil knew, him alone couldn't hope to stop all those colonies…but him in the powerful, also newly-deployed Gundam X was a different story. If push came to shove, Jamil himself had a trump card in his hands: the colony-busting Satellite Cannon equipped on the Gundam X, which only a Newtype like him could ever hope to use to devastating effect. And it wasn't the Gundam X's only trick up its sleeve, either; as a Newtype, Jamil could also control unmanned versions of the Gundam X with pure thought…which pretty much gave Jamil and his two co-pilots --- also in Gundams --- the power of a small army right there and then.

In the Gundam X, Jamil pretty much also had the power of thirty or so nuclear bombs in his hands alone. Now all Jamil had to do was use it. And that was what Jamil had been ordered to do --- and he doesn't like it. It was easy for the Earth Federation to order Jamil to use it, but it wasn't remotely like that for Jamil to order the Gundam X to. He was Earth's last hope to defend itself against the Colony Drops, and when he fires the Gundam X's cannon, Jamil would further decimate another million or so people trying to save it.

Earth was his home, and Jamil had to defend it. Like he was ordered.

Reaching out with his Newtype powers, Jamil did what he had been trained all that time to do. With the press of a single button the Gundam X deployed its trump weapon, the Satellite Cannon spreading the energy-connecting, X-shaped Reflector Mirrors behind the Mobile Suit to charge energy. With another pulse of psychic energy, the unmanned Gundam X 'bits' followed in Jamil's example, pointing their guns at the colonies without any emotion whatsoever.

Jamil did, though, and that was what mattered to them. Jamil reached out again, this time to an automated Energy Generator Base on the Moon's surface, and in response the base shot out its energy for Jamil to use, like it was supposed to do. Moments later the super-microwave beam hit the Gundam X, and both it and the 'bits' began charging up their deadly weapons. It gave Jamil time to reconsider his actions, and Jamil did so carefully.

Looking at the Earth and then the colonies, Jamil sighed. If he didn't fire, Earth, his home, would be either completely destroyed or oppressed by the SRA. And if he did fire, the colonies would be destroyed, with all the people living and thriving in them, which was just as bad. Simply destroying the SRA fleet hell-bent to force Earth to surrender wouldn't work at all --- it was down to these two choices, and Jamil was running out of time to hesitate. He had to make his stand now.

The SRA drew closer, as did the colonies, and when they were close enough, Jamil made the decision: he would save Earth, and let the future his Newtype powers see decide his fate.

Jamil Neate pressed the trigger.

The Gundam X fired.

And fifteen years later, Jamil Neate would have to live with the consequences of the blast that counted.


End file.
